Running Out of Time
by Queen Risa
Summary: Mamoru has always planned out his time, right down to the seconds of his death. But with his time slowly running out, one of his co-workers decides to show him the true meaning of time and how it has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters. AU Tumblr prompt with boat loads of angst and hope.
1. Branded

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights to respective owners.**

 **A/N: So I saw this prompt idea on Tumblr a long time ago and I thought it was very sad and a fitting set-up for angst. Sooooo I figured to give it a shot recently when it popped up again. Unfortunately in the process of all things, I decided to go off my usual script and sadly this is all angst, and I mean all angst.**

 **A LITTLE WARNING: I will not be updating this quickly since I do have other stories I intend to finish and do so it will be a while until I update this! I know, I know really stupid but can you blame a girl for wanting to post a story?**

 **Prompt: "Everyone is born with 3 dates on their wrist. One represents when you will accomplish your life's goal, one is when you will meet your soulmate, and one is when you will die right down to the second. Yours are all the same day within a minute of each other."**

 **Okay so I changed it a little to fit the storyline better but I hope you all enjoy/suffer this little story. I really just wanted to help people learn about how life is short and we should enjoy it with the people who make it enjoyable so what better way to show that than using Usagi and Mamoru. And please review and tell me what you thought!**

* * *

 _ **"All great achievements require time."**_

 _ **-Maya Angelou**_

 **Chapter One:** **Branded**

Time in itself, was something that many took for granted, among other things in one's lifetime. But many don't understand just how important time was, how the currency it held was much more valuable than any piece of paper, or jewel, or house, or technology created in a part of the world.

What made time so sought for, _so expensive_ , was that it could never be brought back. Once you wasted the seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, _years_...they were gone and never recreated later. You get one shot and that's it.

Even after living a whole life revolving around just time, Mamoru always questioned why he kept such meticulous daily schedules over something that he had very little of, compared to everyone else around him.

At least, that's what he thought.

With an exhausted sigh, the dark-haired med student plucked his reading glasses from where they laid on his nose. He rubbed the bridge, closing his eyes as the numbers and theories written neatly in the notebook began to blur and fade away dangerously. One more exam, just a few more weeks of interning, and all the long nights and studying would pay off.

The noises of the cafe filter back into his mind and at last he hears his waitress's repeated words.

"...like some more coffee sir?" He gazed up at the young brunette and gave a polite smile and nodded. The rich black liquid streamed into the white ceramic cup resting next to his materials. The image reminded him of those hourglass clocks, how the sand falls with each passing second, each grain representing another loss of time.

 _5….4….3….2….1_

"Cool tattoo you have there."

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mamoru looked to the server with confused eyes before following her own eyesight to his bare wrist on his left hand, the inked numbers in all perfect order. He frowned, avoiding eye contact, "Thank you."

"Yea no problem," even as she finished filling his cup, the girl stayed and examined the numbers engraved in his skin. "What do they mean? The dates on your arm, like birthdays, deaths, or something.."

His eyes slid to his wrist resting on the table before once again, looking straight forward. "Yea something like that…"

"Mhm well I guess they're coming up rather quickly huh?" And with that last statement and friendly smile, her dark brown braid swung as she attended to another table of hers.

Mamoru felt a breath of relief being released from his lungs and he refocused on the papers in front of him, but his eyes always ended up glancing to his wrist, the numbers mocking him almost.

They was three sets of dates, two the same and one different to the others. Next to each date, they was a time that was down to the minutes. It was all in black ink and the dights laid just below his hand line and they encircled his wrist slightly.

With his shaky right hand, he clicked the home screen of his phone that was sitting off to the side. The date and time appeared and he felt his heart quicken for what felt like the tenth time that day.

 **15:07 Thursday, 3 April 2018**

He looked from his phone screen to his wrist again.

 **31-05-18 23:58**

 **31-05-18 23:59**

 **01-06-18 24:00**

He stared long and hard at those daunting numbers, mocking and laughing at him. These same numbers, the ones that appeared on his wrist one night when he was fifteen.

* * *

 _Street lights flooded the dark spaces of the Azabu street. Even if the certain area he was in wasn't known for any heinous street crime, the dark-haired teen nevertheless felt the hairs on his neck rise with each noise a stray cat or dog would produce in the black allies. Cursing his stupid professor for keeping their cram class longer than usual, the fifteen-year-old tugged his backpack further up his arm._

 _He quickened his pace, spending more time in the lighted spots, and then nearly speed walking through the dark ones in between. He almost face palmed at his actions. For the love of the gods, he was a teenage boy afraid of the dark, he really needed to grow a pair. But he was almost to his apartment building, almost. So close, so close, so close-_

 _"Oh excuse me!"_

 _He nearly yelped in all suddenness of the friendly feminine voice. In the limited light that was provided for him, the teen was able to see the outline of the girl he had bumped into while in his haste of fear; she had bright blonde endless hair that was almost white but that could be just the street lights, and her eyes were round and blue with flecks of what looked to be shining grey. Plus the large white coat she had donned, appearing almost as a cape, completed the heavenly look of her. A sight, she was._

 _"Oh yea I'm sorry," he apologized after regaining his composer, thanking the dark settings hiding his blush, "I was rushing, my bad."_

 _"Oh it's okay," her soft melody of a voice rang out, making him avoid her eyesight even more. "You probably do that a lot huh? I mean, I think everyone kind of rushes through life, like their time is running or something?"_

 _He furrowed his eyebrows, perplexed at her innocent statement. "Yes, I guess."_

 _The girl shrugged her slim shoulders, a smile still on her face apparently. "Maybe we should just enjoy our time, our lives more. I mean time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters."_

 _He nodded his head, eyes darting to the sidewalk. "Yea, interesting I get it."_

 _Taking a few steps away from the her, ready to walk away, she spoke again and it sent chills down his body._

 _"I don't think you do get it Mamoru."_

 _Shocked? Yes. Confused? Yes. Scared? Hell yes. Somehow he still has the guts to turn around and fully face the girl who had a stoic look painted on her features. He felt the shivers up and down his spine at the intense look that almost hit your soul. "How d-do you know my name?"_

 _No feeling was in his legs and in the blink of an eye, the girl was in front of him, eye glazed with grey completely. "I'm sorry I have to do this."_

 _Her hand shot out and grasped his wrist, clenching so hard that he almost went to his knees. Suddenly his mind went fuzzy and her profile blurred in his eyes. The arm she held began to burn painfully, as if his flesh had been set on fire, and he really did go on his knees as the sensation intensified to great heights that he could no longer stand it._

 _"Wha-what are you doing to m-me?!"_

 _"Please understand Mamoru," she said, his hearing starting to fail him. "You will in due time but for now you have to know the value of your time. You're wasting it and maybe this...will…you...to her..."_

 _And then black._

* * *

The next morning he woke up in his bed, with the three sets of dates and times, all three times within a minute of each other. First thought was that somehow he got a tattoo last night, maybe out drinking with Motoki. But then he remembered very dimly of the girl he bumped into coming home.

The burning sensation coming back with vengeance…..

What had she done to him? What were the dates and times? What did they mean?

As far as he could tell, Mamoru had concluded that it wasn't a tattoo but an indented mark on his skin, as if his flesh had been burned into. _Branded._

The paranoia that had set in was all-consuming and suffocating. He had nightmares of clocks reaching midnight, a countdown to one running in his head. It was as if his days had gotten shorter all of sudden; daylight seemed to stream into his windows more earlier in the mornings but nightfall in kin seemed to bestow upon him quicker than before. More of the time, he felt insane, crazy, delusional until finally seeking help on what exactly had happened to him that night.

He sought out the help from a shrine maiden, the thought of even going to a doctor was definitely a no; all that he would receive would be anxiety pills, tattoo removal recommendations, or a trip to the psyche ward over his teenage delusions of an unearthly being branding him.

It was there at the Hikawa Shrine, that Mamoru was finally given the knowledge of what exactly happened that night and what the encounter had meant. More importantly, he learned what the unknown dates and times meant on his arm, but after knowing, he wished that he didn't.

After leaving, it was then that he began to obsessively schedule and plan out his daily life, down to the seconds so that his time was never wasted.

Coming back to his present mind, Mamoru cast a glance to his bare wrist, the ink that laid there still so thick and bold, never diminishing. One day, three sets of time, for the three most important events in his life.

On May 31, 2018, at 23:58, Mamoru Chiba will accomplish his life goal.

On May 31, 2018, at 23:59, Mamoru Chiba will fall in love.

And on June 1, 2018, at 24:00, Mamoru Chiba will die.

And after nearly a decade later, he was running out of time.

* * *

 **Eckkk I know it's kind of out there and I haven't really done too much with angst/fantasy stories (usually I put humor here and there but I'm afraid it will be very limited in this fic) so bare with me I guess. The times will go by 24 hours obviously. So hopefully I update this at some point? I have a lot of other stories I need to tend to but I just wanted this out in the open for the heck of it so I'm sorry. If you want the next update, it'll probably be after I finish both "The Speech Dilemma" and "Checkmate" since they were first. So please no pitchforks in the reviews lol I don't leave fics unfinished even if it takes a while for me so this will be updated….just not soon. But please leave a review and tell me what you thought! Are you interested or did it fall flat? I'll see ya when I'll see ya!**


	2. Annoyed

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights to respective owners.**

 **A/N: ANDDDD WELCOME BACK ALL! I know, I know, I shouldn't be updating this while I have so many other stories but I just got a burst of angst today! Weird right but good for anyone reading this fic lol Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved, or followed! I'm going for legit like crying angst in this story so enjoy and please tell me what you thought!**

* * *

" _ **Time is a created thing. To say 'I don't have time,' is like saying, 'I don't want to.'"**_

 _ **\- Lao-Tzu**_

 **Chapter Two: Annoyed**

 _April 8, 2018_

Intercoms and phones rang in the background noise of his frazzled mind. Nurses and doctors whooshed past him as Mamoru approached the front desk with his folders of important documents. It was now just a regular, usual day, as always, at his shift.

"Nurse Chiba," looking up from the documents, Mamoru made eye contact with the woman behind the front desk, "Don't forget that you go on lunch break in twenty minutes. I know that you overwork yourself so I'm reminding you to take a damn break sometimes."

He smiled weakly at her, knowing full well she was completely right about his workaholic tendencies. "I will, don't worry."

Flipping the folder closed, and scooping it up, the dark-haired man was already turned to do his usual rounds one more time-

"Chiba-san! Wait up!"

The high-pitched call made him flinch dramatically, and light tappings of quick footsteps were audible behind him so he knew that it was much too late for him to ignore and walk away.

"Nurse Chiba-san!"

He rotated around and set his sights on the slip of a girl in front of him. Her long hair bounced in its high ponytail, and twinkling blues greeted him with so much enthusiasm and sweetness that he had a toothache from just looking at her bright-pink scrubbed self.

"Hello," he unemotionally greeted, glancing very briefly at her before swinging the folder up in his hands open once more, longing for an escape to not directly interact with her. "Do you need anything?"

"Uh well no," she happily replied, "I just wanted to talk and converse as colleagues and stuff, you know." Giggling like a schoolgirl, he shuddered at the cheerful, sweet sound, it made him cringe to have such a happy little human being, so close in proximity to him.

"Hmm," Mamoru responded, not one bit interested in continuing a conversation with her.

"So you're going on break soon right? Maybe if you'd be okay with it, we can sit…"

He stopped listening and focused more on the charts and graphs and crucial information that was much, _much_ more important than what she was currently proposing to him.

This _kid_ had been a developing, sharp thorn in his side ever since she first started at the hospital a few months ago, being scheduled during his shift and onto his floor. He won't comment on her professional skills since, truth be told, she was a fantastic nurse in every aspect of the said job. She was kind, gentle but still firm and completed her work expertly with every patient, becoming a nurse that many in the hospital could learn from and one many patients loved to have.

But it didn't mean that he should accept her countless lunch requests or futile attempts of conversation and subtle flirting, always blushing and twirling a strand of her long gold hair that would constantly become loose from her ponytail. She was much too cheery, too happy, too bright, just too much of a positive person for his dark, depressing taste.

He had no interest in the girl, whatsoever and was repeatedly avoiding her, turning into a different hallway if he would catch sight of her going down the one he was in.

"I don't think I can," Mamoru cut off her endless, stumbling sentences that made his dislike for her skyrocket.

Being thrown off by his rejection, having been used to the consist answer but still her face fell in disappointment, the blonde swiftly rebuilt and smiled sweetly at him with sparkling pools of blues. "I understand. If you change your mind, me and Nurse Mizuno will be sitting in the cafeteria."

"Okay great," he deadpanned while stacking up his files and briskly passing her, barely batting an eye through his silky black bangs.

"I will see you later at our rounds Nurse Chiba-san," she called out, sounding like a kid saying goodbye to one of her playmates.

"Goodbye to you too..uh," he stumbled for a second in his call, searching the dusty corners of his mind for the annoying girl's name.

"Tsukino," the blonde cheerfully supplied behind him, "Tsukino Usagi!"

"Right," he muttered while continuing down, wondering if this time he'll finally be able to remember the forgetful name she had repeated countless times to him. As he rounded the corner of the hallway, their interaction was already slipping away from him, like it always did.

* * *

 _His skin beamed a bright fleshy red as he rubbed the towel even harder against his wrist. It had to be washable, it had to be removable in some way because there was no possible reason that it should be permanent on his flesh._

 _More soap and water, another piece of brown generic paper towel, more rougher movements and still, the black inky lines stayed bold and complete, not even a little diminished from the intense removal process._

 _The teen ran a frustrated hand with his dark messy locks, biting his lip, and breathed heavy, now panicking over his mysterious situation._

 _What was he supposed to do?_

 _In no solution could he keep this deep mark but wh-_

" _Mamoru are you okay? Class is going to start!"_

 _The sophomore grasped the roll of medical tape that sat on the edge of the sinks, wrapping the thing around at warp speed as Motoki banged on the boy's bathroom door relentlessly. Mamoru efficiently concealed his wrist, maintaining the 'injury' ruse he had set up as a cover, and cleaned up the messy scene of soapy paper towels while cursing to himself how barely two days have passed and already this thing was screwing with his life and mind._

* * *

Dying was something he thought about a lot of the time, the very little he had anyway, aware that if anyone else knew of these morbid thoughts, he would most likely be committed to the nearest asylum. But still, it remained abuzz in his sharp-witted mind.

When the time did hit midnight on that fateful day, only weeks away, what will happen?

Would he, perhaps ascend to a special, higher place, such as the ones religions always preached about, heaven or the great beyond? Or would he be reincarnated into an animal in another lifetime or will his soul return in a new body, a _new person entirely_ later in time? Or would nothing happen, will everything go black and his life, and soul, would truly be ended, cease to exist.

In the deep, dark depressing corners of his mind, Mamoru pondered these curiosities. He had never been overly religious, nor does he fiercely believe in any forms of afterlives just due to the fact that letting those gloomy thoughts in his mind would cause him pain and anxiety.

But he still thought about it, still wondered, if there was a heaven of some kind, how did the peaceful and magical place look? Was it all decorated in pure white, angels with harps and the big golden gates, or was it a majestic field with a picture perfect sunset painted on the ever ending horizon?

At least the promise of peace and serenity he formulated was overall a positive note he kept, compared to the nagging notion of his certain death that he ping-ponged around in his head.

When even those notions and reminders snowballed into something far too ominous, even for his bleak taste, the one harsh but sobering fact cleared all that immersed him in the shadows.

Everyone dies at one point or another.

The only difference he had? He just knew when.

Life is like a road, everyone is on it, going to their final destination but there was turns and twists and misdirection's that made many go off the beaten path and make their own way to their own destination. Some took a smooth route and had very few bumps but others took more choppy and uneven ones. But all came to their destinations, sooner or later, they did.

His destination was just closer than others, he would conclude. His road trip was almost over and in way, putting the prospect of dying in that more positive light, it made things, easier.

Mamoru fished his keys out of the sweatshirt pocket, inserting them and turning the doorknob to his quiet and darkness consumed apartment. He threw the ring of noisy, shiny keys into the bowl near the foyer, kicked off his work sneakers, and blindly flipped a few lights on.

Stumbling into the vast posh space, the annoying red light flashing on the phone base called to him immediately, even as he attempted to pass it to the kitchen.

A few glasses of milk from a nearly vacant fridge, a rough bite into a red juicy apple, but Mamoru's dark stormy eyes caught the persist beacon beckoning him every single time he turned.

Finally, sighing and cursing, he arrived at the small table located in the living room within a few long strides, and a long finger shot out, pushing the play button.

" _All voicemail playback,"_ the robotic voice chimed, a few beeps following it.

" _Hi, this is the Children's Life Associa-"_ He clicked the skip button. Not because he was heartless but because last month he already had a good portion of his bank account divided and placed to deposit well-rounded donations in several key charities around the city.

" _Are you looking for a better couch? Do you get back pain because of your current couch's sagging? Welllll, have I got-"_ Skip.

" _Hi Mamoru Chiba, this is Ms. Liyuk, your psychiatrist speaking. I need you to schedule an app-"_ Skip.

" _Congratulations one Mamoru Chiba! You have just won a one week cruise across the Pacific Ocean! It's between the dates of June 5 to June-"_ Skip.

" _Mamoru it's me."_ His finger paused as the male voice bounced off the walls in the room. " _You missed our lunch again. Come on man, why do you avoid me? I'm your best friend, have been for like 20 years! You keep making up excuses to not see me and barely anyone sees you anymore. Why do you push everyone that cares about you away? Call me, text me, email me, write to me, goddammit send me smoke signals if you have to! My number and address are the same like always. Please, talk to me."_ A final beep followed, announcing the end of the voice message.

His hand actually reached for the phone, ready to redial and call his worried friend back, but he retracted the offending hand with a look. ' _Traitor.'_

He knew his place, and situation. In the end, distancing himself from the ones closest to him would be more preferable and better related. Because the more they thought that he had forgotten about them, the more they will forget about him. And the less it will hurt on June 1.

Another beep sounded, bringing Mamoru back to the messages.

" _Hi, it's me."_ His stomach once more knotted but it was dread that was the cause. " _I saw the calendar and remembered what was coming up. I figured, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. I know you probably don't want to see me but I'm the only one that you can talk to about this. You know my number."_

The silence after the female voice finished, was deafening. It left an unsettling silence that hung in the air.

But soon it passed, and Mamoru was stoic again.

He was half turned around, ready to checkout for the night but the phone blared its ear shattering incoming call before his bedroom door was even in sight.

The number and caller I.D. displayed, Mamoru groaned and slowly picked the phone up.

"Hello," he lazily greeted.

" _Really? Hello is all you got."_

"Yea."

A sigh. " _Mamoru, please. Tell me what's going on with you."_

His hand tightened around the phone. "Nothing."

" _No. There's something. There's been something for the last ten years you asshole."_

Mamoru closed his eyes and mentally mused that cheery, fun-going Motoki was harshly saying all of this, it was even harder to listen to the broken and confusion hitch in his voice. He so wished that he could spill out everything; the crippling fear, the nights of sobbing, moments of just wanting to end it before May 31, the nightmares that he awoke from in a sweat, the days of agonizing pain and darkness that could send any other sane person over the edge but somehow he was still here, kicking and alive. He so badly wanted to spend hours talking about every single painful second he had been going through ever since he had become aware, and he knew Motoki would listen to everything, comfort and soothe him as a longtime friend should but…

"Motoki I don't have time for this." ' _I'm going to die soon.'_

"I have some things I have to do." ' _Please help me.'_

"You need to stop these calls and lame attempts." ' _Talk with me, come to me because I need someone.'_

"I'm perfectly fine." ' _I'm scared.'_

" _Mamoru you're not fine. You've pushed everyone away and we don't know why! I can't even get you to talk to me unless I show up during your shift or something. Me and Reika have been trying to get you to come over for ages. Man, it's like you died or something."_

He tensed at the sarcastic statement. "Just forget about me okay. You deserve a better friend." ' _Please don't forget me, please remember me after.'_

" _You are-"_

"Goodbye Motoki." ' _Thank you for everything.'_

And he clicked off.

By no means was that his last goodbye, there was a special day that he had set aside for that, but it would be for a while.

The dirty blonde deserved no such stress during such a pivotal time in his life, fatherhood. Reika was just on the edge of eight months and Motoki, if Mamoru knew him any, was most likely flipping out at the prospect of taking care of a small human. He didn't need the agonies of his depressed friend to weigh down on him.

Affirming the choice in his head again, he replaced the phone in its small caddie and made his way to the bedroom.

Stripping off the lavender scrubs and long sleeved black t-shirt he wore underneath (He wished for no one to really point out his mark at work), Mamoru hurriedly rushed into a pair of sweats and a plain grey t-shirt he used as sleepwear. Noticing his extra time, the dark-haired man turned to the calendar pinned on his wall, ready with a black marker.

He placed a big, bold 'X' on the number 8. Flipping to the next month, he saw the circled date at the bottom. May 31.

After that date, there was no more calendar, having been torn off once it was bought.

Satisfied with his routine completion, he shuffled to his messy bed and whipped out his daily planner from the nightstand drawer. He observed tomorrow's schedule, such as waking up, brushing his teeth, dressing, commuting to work, finishing his shift, picking up some groceries on the way back… the trivial things he had planned out was accompanied with a little check mark box and time range, determining how long it would take, down to the last minute.

The listing was meticulous and maddening but it kept him sane all the same. It gave him some control, that in the sense even if he couldn't control how much time he had left, he could control what he would do in that small amount of time.

Flipping the book closed and placing it among the other ones he had kept in the drawer, Mamoru prepared for his last nightly ritual.

His express of emotions. All day, everyday, he would keep them pent up and at the end, he let everything out in a grueling howl or cry.

Tonight's special: annoyance.

Annoyed with every being in his life, annoyed on why they were even in his life.

His neighbors, the girl from the hospital, the friendly doorman, Motoki, the little girl who lived next door who _always_ asked him to play tea party with her every time she saw him in the hall, his psychiatrist who just needed to give up on him.

Why did everyone care so much?

He would be gone soon so why bother to form connections? Why make relationships?

The reason he was even working at the hospital, _even still alive_ , was because he wanted to make a difference in some lives, save theirs even if no one could save his. They shouldn't serve his timely sentence so soon, not if they have a chance of surviving unlike him.

But he was annoyed beyond belief at how everyone went through life carefree and happy in the sun while he brooded in the shadows.

He was just annoyed and finished.

Releasing his volatile emotion, he slammed down on the bed breathing heavy from his holler and release of pent up anger in a moment of true fury. Sometimes his little intervention ended with tears, sometimes with needs of new furniture, or sometimes just exhaustion.

A hand slithered out and clicked off the light as he slipped into his dark colored covers, settling in warmth and protection from the darkness that engulfed his bedroom then. The bright city skylines outside his floor-to-ceiling windows provided him a breathtaking view of lit up buildings, the starry nights, and the full white moon that illuminated in the midnight sky.

Sleep wasn't his thing, which was crazy for people to hear due to the fact that he was a nurse, always going beck and call to do late night shifts here and there. You would think that he couldn't get enough sleep.

But sleep was too frightening for him because it felt as if he was already dead. Not moving, not awake, still alive but not quite.

Plus the nightmares kept him at bay with enjoying sleep, salty tears staining his cheeks while sweat drenched his clothes in the early morning. Another annoyance to add to the list. Another nail in his coffin.

All he could do was pray that he would fall asleep and make it through the night before his visions could worsen to the breaking point.

This was his life. Misery, death, and annoyance.

His eyelids fluttered and he slipped into sleep, a tear already escaping his dry eyes.

Tomorrow was just another day closer to his death date, another day in his short life.

* * *

 **I just felt like writing angst today so if anyone out there is reading, your welcome for the relatively fast update even though I said I wasn't updating. Some days you feel like angst, some other days, you feel like fluff. Who knows? Anyway, review and tell me what you thought! :D**


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